


Baby, You Can Have It All

by Jibbly



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (2010), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, F/M, M/M, Multiple Personalities, Murder, everybody dies/Nobody lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 14:37:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jibbly/pseuds/Jibbly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not a happy story for happy people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, You Can Have It All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merbearedie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=merbearedie).



> So this intro is basically what happens at the begging of m comic  
> "Sing a little song for me?" but in more in depth kinda  
> This is Dark!Hiccup in this chpter
> 
>  
> 
> Cash and Kashmir, gold in Zier  
> I got a new one from over there  
> You can drink a mint tea by the Red Sea  
> As you're living out whose fantasy  
> Yeah the sun the moon are both  
> Hitting the hood and the heat's too hot to be cool  
> Yeah I'm sailing my bed to a better man school  
> And it's two in the afternoon  
> We already bullet-proof, we got a big crew  
> And we're running on a force that's true  
> We don't fear you, wear up-to-date shoes  
> Or fall for the point of view  
> -Sexodus M.I.A

Long dark brown hair was tangled and stuck together by the sweat that was coming off the girl's body. Her wide hazel eyes, large and frantic. Shining with the wetness of the tears she had shed and were about to.  
She had been stripped of her clothes expect for her bra and underwear, hands tied behind her back with some duct tape. Her wrists were raw and red from the struggling. A single strip of silver duct tape was on top of her mouth, too. her wimpering was still loud, but it was better than her screaming. 

 

I kneel down in front her. She harshly recoils from where my knee is, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. But she can't. Because she's trapped here with me, in this place. We are the only people in the world. My passion and her fear. I can smell it in the air and it gets me excited. I have all the power here. I could let her go if i wanted to. But I don't. That's about the farthest thing from my mind right now.

 

She had told me her name at the beginning of that night, I vaguely remembered that it started with a B. Beverly or something close to it. So is beautiful in the way that young people are. But I won't touch her. Not like that. I wouldn't disrespect her in such a filthy way. No. I'll make sure to take my time, an make sure that she is properly treated.

 

I push back a wet strand of hair on her face behind her ear. She starts crying harder at my touch. I can see that her chest is rising and falling rapidly. Not getting enough oxygen. She's going to pass out if she keeps on breathing like that. I make soft shushing noises as i keep one hand on her cheek and use the other to reach in my pocket. Her hazel eyes meet mine for a second. I don't know what's she's seeing. I pull out a black sharpie marker from my pocket and bring it up to her face. She struggle against my hand as i try to use the marker on the piece of tape on her mouth. Her muffled yells are starting to get louder. It's had to write straight with the way her lip are moving and her shaking, but i manage. 

 

I let go of here face and stand for the table on the other side of the room. She crumbles into herself. Fetal position, but keeps her eyes fixed on me. I reguard the various instruments on the table before i pick up a compact mirror. It was in her back pack when we were walking. She had been checking her make p and hair with it. Pink with a black and white picture of a french bulldog on the outside of it. 

 

I open the small mirror and walk back to her. Her eyes still watching me carefully. When I am two feet in front of her, I tell her to sit up. She ignores my command. She's still shaking and reeks of fear, but her eyes are hard. Challenging. Defiant.  
I Tell her one more time.

"Get up."

She turns her head so that her long brown hair falls in her face as she faces the ground.

 

My hand shoots out, grabbing a fist full of hair right from her scalp. Yanking her up, until she staggers onto her feet. I was going to kneel down with her before, but I changed my mind. the hand that was in her hair moves to hold her neck. Not enough pressure to cut off air, but just enough that I slam her head against the wall. 

She starts to panic again.thrashing her legs trying to kick me. 

"Stay still." 

My voice is full of command this time. I grip her neck tighter, until she finally stills. 

Her chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Once I am convinced that she won't wove again, I let go of her neck. I can see angry red marks already. I bring up the tiny compact from my other hand, so that she can see it. so she can see her face.  
She looks startled. Eyes widening for a second, looking at the mirror at her mouth. 

She crumbles onto the floor again, and I let her. 

I walk away, back to the table and place the mirror back where I had gotten it from. I can hear her sobbing. It getting louder and louder the more I ignore her in favor of choosing what I'll pick up next. 

 

 

I drew a smile on the tape


End file.
